An Evolving School Culture

My school counselor is a gift from heaven.  When everyone has gone home for the day, we will occasionally have time for lengthy chats in my quiet and cozy office or hers.  She has the kind of innate sensitivity to how the world works that helps me put my tiny problems into perspective, allowing me to see patterns and solutions and giving me the peace of mind that collaborative reflection can bring.

I was talking with her one day about the idea that bullying behavior is a natural part of evolution and ubiquitous in our culture.  Since my daughter is eight, I overhear her favorite shows and even with the current social and political climate condemning bullying behavior, I see examples of it in the story lines of children’s programming.  (On a side note:  principals in these shows are often portrayed as dim-witted enemies of children which is irritating, but that’s a post for another day.)

While all educators I know do not condone bullying behavior and do everything possible to get all students the help they need, it is troubling how individuals and groups are shunned overtly and otherwise for our entertainment and the impression that this leaves on our children.  Any number of tv shows and movies model this for adults and kids. We view bullying as a problem exclusive to schools and neighborhoods, a problem experienced by young people that gets better as you get older, while not always recognizing the ways in which as adults we contribute to or are ourselves targets of bullying behavior. 

Consider the social dynamics of the workplace.  What I used to think was a phenomenon exclusive to the public school setting I have now realized is not our own.  The informal culture of any organization can be racked by power hierarchies and complicated social connections that stifle both the work of the system as a whole and the individual growth of those working within it.  When reflecting upon the disfunction within their own organization, people may often say, “Well, you’ll have some of that everywhere,” as if a pervasive problem results in no problem at all.  I’ve believed for a long time that we can create something better because my school counselor did what she does best and made me think of things differently:  it may be the case that it is natural for humans to develop hierarchical structures that can isolate and disempower others but we are called to do better.

In a Ted Talk I viewed recently, psychologist Dan Gilbert says, "Human beings are works in progress that mistakenly think they're finished."   If there is one place where we need to embrace this idea and become transparent about what it looks like in our interactions, it's our schools.  What strategies can we employ as principals to surface relational issues between adults in our schools?  Can we be transparent about these problems while still maintaining the dignity of those staff members who are not fully embraced and respected by their peers?  How can a principal lead a staff in understanding that power structures are common within all organizations and, in our system, we will rise above?  What are the consequences if we don't?  The impact on all employees and on students is profound. Consider this research cited in the September 2011 edition of Educational Leadership and the potential that it could be generalized to schools where adult "bullies" are popular:

It's well worth asking whether today's schools are characterized by a democratic or autocratic social climate and whether differences in school climate are related to bullying. Classrooms with more egalitarian social status hierarchies, strong group norms in support of academic achievement and prosocial behavior, and positive social ties among children should deprive many socially connected bullies of the peer regard they require (Ahn, Garandeau, & Rodkin, 2010; Frey, Edstrom, & Hirschstein, 2010; Pellegrini et al., 2010; Rodkin & Gest, 2011). In contrast, even children who are not bullies themselves will form probullying attitudes in classrooms where bullies are popular (Dijkstra, Lindenberg, & Veenstra, 2008).

Let's acknowledge that these structures are pervasive in organizations and a part of human nature, and then let us remember that we're still evolving and we can and must do better!  Students, adults and our systems can thrive when we embrace an inclusive mindset and consciously eliminate structures that provide fertile ground for social hierarchies to grow.

Being human is hard.  Just when I'm deep in thought about the last conversation I'd had with my counselor she hits me with a little gem of truth about criticism when she shares that criticizing is the simplest way for our brain to think about a problem or idea.  Of course the timing of this was perfect as I was passively listening and actively, although silently, criticizing an idea.  Shame on me.  Thank goodness we are just works in progress along an evolutionary journey but these conversations are making me feel like a Neanderthal.  

No more write.  Me go sleep.  

Danger: PLCs Ahead

I remember reading Professional Learning Communities at Work in my first year of graduate school over a decade ago.  Having spent time in a district where collaboration was commonplace, I didn’t foresee the potential for it to be as seminal as it has become.  I clearly remember telling my classmates that the text was “nothing earth-shattering”.

Fast forward and now the PLC machine seems unstoppable.  It seems that for a moment in education we perhaps are all thinking similarly.  Whether this is a great-minds-think-alike moment or an if-everyone’s-thinking-the-same-thing-someone’s-not-thinking one, I encourage my fellow principals to proceed with caution.

Why proceed with caution?

Because the “Copyright PLC” machine seems unstoppable too.

Attending a PLC training is costly.  (As a side note, there’s no denying that the main PLC trainers deliver consistent, quality content that is well-facilitated and learning that is relevant and important for all educators).  However, when a district makes an effort to bring PLCs “to scale”, there may be little money left in the budget for other endeavors because of the cost.  This wouldn’t be a huge problem because focus is good.  But when the money’s tight and the training is sparse, it’s convenient for us to use the absence of formal PLC training as an excuse for not making progress toward working collaboratively.

Because we use “PLC” as a noun, a verb, and an adjective but it’s mostly a state of mind.

Every teacher in our school is part of a PLC.

That work doesn’t seem very PLC.

On Wednesday there’s a faculty meeting but on Thursday we’ll PLC.

Principals, it’s our job to ensure the kind of culture where teachers see students’ success as an interdependent endeavor.  We can use PLC as whatever part of speech you want but without a doubt:  if we don’t figure out how to work and learn together, there’s a percentage of students in every school who will fail.  With an established collaborative culture, we can withstand such setbacks and potential delays as losing our “PLC time” or new staff needing “PLC training”.   

Because what seems to be the typical work of most PLCs is only a portion of the necessary work of schools.

We want very much for our work in collaborative groups to be as efficient and objective as possible and, consequently, teams functioning within the guidance of the Four Questions of PLCs often examine data that can be analyzed efficiently.  They select strategies that can be calibrated efficiently.  They consider structures that can be established efficiently.  This is good news.  But it’s just a portion of the work that we need to get good at.

The other half involves rich conversation about more sophisticated pedagogy and authentic learning.  This takes more time, more complex training, and more conversation.  

When the primary function of PLC teams is to sort students into intervention, at standard, and advanced groups (whether that group membership is flexible or not), we are simply greasing the gears of the conveyor belts that keep our factory model going.  If those PLC teams fine-tune their instruction to decrease the number of students in need of intervention, we get a step closer.  When PLCs work together to make learning experiences authentic and increas student ownership and commitment, we are even closer.  But for systemic change, every PLC needs to be working toward innovation and reform.   

Sometimes You Win, Sometimes You Learn

An anonymous staff member at my school posts inspirational quotes where everyone is sure see them and maybe even have a couple of seconds to reflect:  in the staff bathroom.  (This, of course, is only on days when there is actually time for a bathroom break.)  The latest bathroom words of wisdom from our mystery motivator is "Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn."  Beautiful.

Indeed this is the case with our school's PBIS journey.  If you read my previous post in this blog (which is now a few years old), I wrote about the dangers of the rapid growth of PBIS in our state.  I still worry about the rapid implementation of PBIS in Iowa but here are a few things we've won and a few things I've learned in our Year One Implementation within the context of my old post:



"Originally I understood [PBIS] to be a system for common language, instruction, and clear expectations for pro-social behaviors.  As I have heard, more often than not, that this instruction is connected to tiered positive reinforcement, I'm worried."

Sometimes you learn
It IS a system for common language, instruction, and clear expectations for pro-social behaviors. Without a systemic approach to teaching and reinforcing expectations at a building level, frustration grows among both staff and students.  Creating that systemic approach and monitoring its effectiveness requires staff input and a data collection process.  The approach doesn't need to involve bribes or extrinsic rewards and the core instruction alone, when done well, can be streamlined and is sufficient to reach at least 80% of students.

Sometimes you win
We spent a lot of time developing a common philosophy and sharing our fears of implementing PBIS.  Doing so allowed us to boost the level of staff input and ownership while avoiding some of the common pitfalls with PBIS implementation.



"Even without the positive reinforcement system, PBIS is still potentially problematic because it gives us, as educators, permission to use something other than an engaging task to get students to do what we want them to do."  And, eh hem, if that wasn't enough..."If students are not engaged in the work that they are being asked to do or are unable to see purpose in demonstrating positive behavior (beyond "character tickets"), it's our fault.  Implementing PBIS creates another system that students don't need and stalls our work toward figuring out what they do."

Sometimes you learn
Ensuring that students are engaged in meaningful work in every classroom all of the time is a career-long goal.  We MUST continue to strive to develop the kinds of tasks and the instructional methods that motivate students in authentic ways and, while we're doing that, we need to put systems into place to ensure they can engage productively in the kinds of experiences we offer them now.

Sometimes you win
We have structures in place to monitor and increase the frequency of authentic tasks and instruction.  Through Authentic Intellectual Work teams and collaborative structures where teachers are able to push one another's thinking, we're making progress here while being able to build a self-sustaining PBIS system.  This self-sustaining system will give us more time to focus on the harder stuff: increasing authenticity.



"[PBIS] superficially reinforces skills that are critical to students' future success:  the development of moral and performance character.  It rewards compliance to authority."

Sometimes you learn
PBIS rewards compliance to authority when implemented poorly or when implemented on top of culture and climate problems.  In an environment where the adults in the school rely on positional authority instead of healthy relationships, PBIS can become gimmicky at best and counterproductive at worst.  However, when implemented in a place with a strong culture and climate where staff have healthy attitudes toward and relationships with children, everyone appreciates being acknowledged for their contributions and as our PBIS trainers remind us: "If it's important enough to correct, it's important enough to acknowledge."

Sometimes you win
Our staff participates fully in random and meaningful acknowledgement of students and each other. We focus on recognition of students and not rewards.  Our classroom teachers make social-emotional instruction on as a responsibility of their core teaching.  All staff members take responsibility for our collective efforts with PBIS and are cautious to protect the nuances that make it an inclusive, positive structure.



Sometimes you win, sometimes you learn.  How are we winning and learning in our statewide PBIS implementation?

PBIS: If It Grows Like a Weed

I will be eternally optimistic about our collective capacity as public educators to evolve into the kind of system that is needed for a prosperous future.  But, the speed and way in which PBIS has spread like wildfire throughout our state makes me nervous.  Originally when I understood it to be a system for common language, instruction, and clear expectations for pro-social behaviors I was supportive. As I have heard, more often than not, that this instruction is connected to tiered positive reinforcement, I'm worried.  


Even without the positive reinforcement system, PBIS is still potentially problematic because it gives us, as educators, permission to use something other than an engaging task to get students to do what we want them to do.  It superficially reinforces skills that are critical to students' future success:  the development of moral and performance character.  It rewards "compliance" to authority.  While that might sound like an ideal scenario for a classroom with a ratio of one teacher to 20 or 30 students, it's dangerous.  


There are a number of reasons why PBIS is bad for our system but one reason has the potential to significantly impede progress in our schools:  If students are not engaged in the work that they are being asked to do or are unable to see purpose in demonstrating positive behavior (beyond "character tickets"), it's our fault. Implementing PBIS creates another system that students don't need and stalls our work toward figuring out what they do. 


Over Christmas break, I was asked by a parent to talk with his son's Boy Scout troop regarding current school structures, the importance of doing your best, and the history of public education.  Because I'm no historian, I had to do a little research prior to my time with the Boy Scouts to prepare.  As I was finding some internet resources to share with them, I ran across this passage from pbs.org about Horace Mann.  Talk about "Nineteenth Century Skills".  Are we unable to learn from our past?  


"[Horace Mann] lived at a time of tremendous social change when immigrants were pouring into the Northeastern states, farmers were leaving rural areas to work in factories, and cities were growing rapidly with crime and poverty on the rise. Some historians believe that Mann and other reformers were alarmed by the upheaval, and promoted state regulated public education as a way to bring order and discipline to the working class in this rapidly changing society. Threatened by the growing population of urban poor, Mann and his fellow reformers placed a major emphasis on “moral training”, standardization and classroom drill."

Improvisational Sketch Comedy = Education Leadership

My office staff is amazing.  They welcome each and every visitor and phone call with a smile and they also spoil me on my birthday.  They jokingly said that I should buy fun books with the Barnes and Noble gift certificate they gave me this year and not those nerdy school books I usually buy.  I just love those nerdy school books.  I think it's because I'm a nerd.  I also love memoirs but funny ones only.  (Read Me Talk Pretty One Day and expect to laugh the entire time but, caution!, also expect to laugh when you feel like you shouldn't every seven or eight pages or so.)  So I picked up Bossypants by Tina Fey.  What she has taught me so far is that improvisational sketch comedy is just like education leadership.  I'd also say that she's taught me that I can't even read a book that has nothing to do about school leadership without thinking about school leadership but I already knew that about myself.  It's a gift and a curse. 

Apparently there are four rules of improv (found on page 84 and 85 of Bossypants.)  You have to read through my interpretation because the initial rule, if applied consistently in my work as a school leader, would make you think, "Wow, she must be a really bad.  Why am I reading this?"  Don't panic.

Tina's words are in italics and quotation marks below.
Tina Fey's Rule #1:
"The first rule of improvisation is AGREE.  Always agree and SAY YES.  So if we're improvising and I say, "Freeze, I have a gun," and you say "That's not a gun.  It's your finger.  You're pointing your finger at me," our improvised scene has ground to a halt.  But if I say, "Freeze, I have a gun!" and you say, "The gun I gave you for Christmas!  You bastard!" then we have started a scene because we have AGREED that my finger is in fact a Christmas gun.

Now, obviously in real life you're not always going to agree with everything everyone says.  But the Rule of Agreement reminds you to "respect what your partner has created" and to at least start from an open-minded place.  Start with a YES and see where it takes you."

Who knew Tina Fey and Peter Block had so much in common?


Tina Fey's Rule #2:
"The second rule of improvisation is not only to say yes, but YES, AND.  You are supposed to agree and then add something of your own.  If I start a scene with, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you just say, "Yeah..." we're kind of at a standstill.  But if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "What did you expect?  We're in hell."  Or if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "Yes, this can't be good for the wax figures."  Or if I say, "I can't believe it's so hot in here," and you say, "I told you we shouldn't have crawled in this dog's mouth," now we're getting somewhere.  

To me, YES, AND means don't be afraid to contribute.  It's your responsibility to contribute.  Always make sure you're adding something to the discussion.  Your initiations are worthwhile.


Okay, seriously.  Who knew Peter Block and Tina Fey had so much in common?

Tina Fey's Rule #3:
The next rule is MAKE STATEMENTS.  This is a positive way of saying "Don't ask questions all the time."  If we're in a scene and I say, "Who are you?  Where are we?  What are we doing here?  What's in that box?" I'm putting all the pressure on you to come up with all of the answers.  

In other words:  Whatever the problem, be part of the solution.  Don't just sit around raising questions and pointing out obstacles.  


Rule #3 reminds me of Switch (authors, Chip and Dan Heath).  Start with a clear vision for where you're going and really strong first step that outlines a specific behavioral change, and don't worry about all of the details.  The details will bog you down.  If you're embarking on the kind of change that's needed, you don't have the answers (let alone the right questions) anyway, silly.

Tina Fey's Rule #4:
THERE ARE NO MISTAKES, only opportunities.  If I start a scene as what I think is very clearly a cop riding a bicycle, but you think I am a hamster in a hamster wheel, guess what?  Now I'm a hamster in a hamster wheel.  I'm not going to stop everything to explain that it was really supposed to be a bike.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll end up being a police hamster who's been put on "hamster wheel" duty because I'm "too much of a loose cannon" in the field.  In improv there are no mistakes, only beautiful happy accidents.  And many of the world's greatest discoveries have been by accident.  I mean, look at the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, or Botox.

Remember, I said, "Don't panic"!  I know good school leadership doesn't happen by accident.  But this rule goes hand in hand with Rule #3.  Thinking there's a "right" answer before we even know which questions to ask will inhibit you from visionary thinking.  Through the guidance of a brilliant mentor, I've come to realize that what I used to perceive as a deficit in my thought process was actually a strength.  When I felt as though I didn't know the questions to even ask, I used to feel that I must not be understanding how multifaceted the change problem was.  Now, I know that I just don't need those details to go forward.  It's not a lack of thoroughness.  We can't figure it all out on the front end anyway. 

When we embark on complex change and the leadership required to see the change through, we can't get panicked with the details.  Just like an improvisational comedian on the stage, we have to roll with it, think on our feet, don't limit possibility, and keep the four rules in mind.  If you haven't read The Answer to How is Yes, I recommend it.  I'm thinking one of Block's workshops and Second City must have a lot in common.

"I saw the boat falling off the edge"

I'll send my "baby" off to Kindergarten in August.  Okay, he's not a baby. He's ten.  But for the first time next year as a fifth grader, he won't be in the same building as me.  Good for his healthy social development, bad for me.

He's a smart boy.  He was an only child and only grandchild for six years until his diva-like younger sister (who he affectionately dubbed "the pink menace" when she was two) came along.  Consequently, he had lots of one-on-one time around interesting adults.  He comes up with some great one-liners now and then.  When I can tear him away from Ro-Blox and his ipod, I love to quiz him while listening to Pandora about who sings what.  He's mastered recognizing Carole King, The Beatles, Coldplay, and Pearl Jam.  We're working on James Taylor, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and a few others. 

He's an observant kid with a special kind of ten-year-old wisdom.  So, while I was quizzing him on who sings 19th Nervous Breakdown in the car on the way to summer school this morning, he randomly told me "The world is flat, mom,"  I looked at him inquisitively because I figured he must have been stewing about something.  "What do you mean?" I asked.  "You know, flat," he said as he motioned with his hands pointing at the horizon.  Okay, I overshot a little.  He was referring to the appearance that the world seems flat from our perspective, not to a Friedman-like analogy about the leveling of learning and economic opportunities around the world. 

I told him I had a book by that same title and he said, "I know.  I saw the boat falling off the edge."  Like I said before, summer is the time for reflection so he said this and "Bingo!"...my brain immediately started thinking about that analogy.  My August-anxiety started building officially today, June 29.  Darn.

There are many times in the upcoming school year when we'll very much feel like the boat is going off the edge of the world.  But it's not.  There may be times when we're not certain that we have the ability to figure out the next steps to keep moving forward.  But we do.  How do we build in opportunities throughout the year to take a step back and realize that we're not helpless when it feels like the boat's going down?  How do we stay the course in turbulent times when the path isn't as clear as we would like? 

So my boy's comment today didn't reflect a deep understanding about the current state of the world and how it's changed but, um, you know, he's ten.  It did, though, cause me to think a little bit about the weight of the flat world on our shoulders and our collective ability to keep the ship from falling off the edge.  It takes the whole team to guide the ship.  It takes everyone's strengths.  Read what Stephen Covey has to say about being "just a trim tab" (The Eighth Habit, Chapter 7). My job is connecting and encouraging people, staying calm in rough waters, and keeping the vision visible.  Doing this allows us to focus more on mission than survival. 

My goodness.  Just like his mother, my young son has so much to learn.  Which to tackle first?  Scientific misconceptions about the shape of Earth or Jumpin' Jack Flash.  I'm going with Mick and Keith.  Some things shouldn't wait.

Summer's Peace

There's something particularly special about summer time as a principal.  From my perspective, it's the gift of reflection combined with the 90 degree weather, the opportunities to work at my patio table early in the morning or late at night, and the complete and total absence of discipline referrals (except those that ensue within my family as my own two children no longer have the comforting routines of the school year.)

In the spirit of reflection and gaining some much needed perspective, I was so fortunate to chat with a personal and professional mentor that I haven't had a chance to talk with for a few years.  How to summarize all that we discussed?  Hmmmm...our work is about teacher leadership, living an integral life, combining the science of pedagogy and human development with the art of relationships and intuition, and establishing structures within a system to create endless possibilities. With our inspiring conversation mulling through my mind, I feel like I can figure out the next five years of dilemmas before me. 

As I left his office and was walking to my car, I looked down at the conglomeration hanging around my neck.  It's a contraption that my father lovingly refers to as "Laura's wind chime" when he removes it from his kitchen counter and tucks it safely away.  It's comprised of my building keys, flash drive, and faculty name tag.  (All hanging from a stylish Brighton lanyard...we princesspals have to be fashionable you know.)  It occurred to me that maybe I've got all that a good leader needs right here in the parking lot:  my building keys, the flash drive of every document I own, and some thoughts from a trusted mentor to see me through.  Oh, and the nametag...in the quest to serve others a good leader never forgets who she is, but she may forget her own name.

Here's to all the mentors out there that impact good people to do good work.  You've still got most of June, July, and August to speak to a school leader at a time when they can hear you...go do it.